redamancy
by InfinityJay
Summary: redamancy (n.) the act of loving someone who loves you; a love returned in full. tamaki doesn't know how to love, but he's getting there. and he's got a lot of love to give.


"Then I say, 'sir, you can't do that here. This is a public park. Please put your clothes back on,' but he's still ripping 'em off saying it's his right as a tax-paying citizen to bare his balls wherever he wants. So, I'm trying to explain to this guy that his rights don't extend to protect public nudity, which is, in fact, against the law, while frantically trying to throw his clothes back on him. Then, all of a sudden—Hey, are you listening?"

Tamaki isn't. He's too busy watching Mirio's animated gestures, a small smile on his face.

"All of a sudden," Mirio continues, "this rat runs out of the bushes. Jumps on him. Chomps down on his dick. _Will not_ let go. I have to grab the rat and get it to let go of this now-hysterical guy's dick. Thankfully, though, he finally passes out from all the drugs he's on. I cover him with a sheet and go find Nighteye to let him deal with it."

 _I'm in love with you_ , Tamaki thinks.

"That's crazy," Tamaki says, though his tone doesn't match his words.

Nejire whistles a low note, leaning back in her seat. "That's quite the sto- Wuh-wait, wait. You grabbed some other guy's dick? Some other guy that isn't your boyfriend?" she accuses.

Mirio's eyes become saucers. "What? N-no, it wasn't like that it was for- Tamaki," he says, turning to the boy in question. "It was just for work. I had to get the rat off his dick and there was no other way. You have to understand."

He's barely holding back his smile. Tamaki's own lips quirk a bit. "It's fine, Mirio."

"God," Nejire interjects, eyebrows drawn together. "What kind of drugs would do that to a person?"

Mirio shrugs and takes a sip from his juice box. "Nighteye said it was probably LSD, DMT, Mescaline, or some other hallucinogen. Guy just had a bad trip. M'sure the rat didn't help any," he replies, amusement lilting his voice at the end.

They're sitting at Tamaki's desk for lunch, a common ritual for the last few weeks. Nejire's facing him, her lunch tossed onto another desk. It's only half eaten, forgotten because of the ridiculous story just told. Mirio pulled a chair up to the side and took over Tamaki's desk with his own lunch. One of his legs is extended in front of Tamaki's feet, the other extended behind. Tamaki leans his head on his hand and watches Mirio talk.

His heart grows 3 sizes watching the boy tell another story about an old lady's cat that he had to get down from a tree. It seems unreal: that this boy, this ray of sunshine, would ever give Tamaki the privilege of feeling his warmth. Sometimes he forgets. Forgets he has that privilege. Then, Mirio turns that million-watt smile to him and it washes over him like a sunny breeze.

Tamaki loves him. That's fact.

Even if he's never said it before. The words never convey the depth of Tamaki's feelings. The intensity. _I love you_ is too shallow. Mirio deserves more. He deserves more than a simple _I love you_. He deserves the world. Tamaki would give him the stars in the sky, if he could.

After all, Tamaki's always been more of a walker than a talker.

"You okay? You've been zoning out like crazy," Mirio says. Oh, he's talking to Tamaki. The million-watt smile isn't there anymore, but the light in his eyes is just as bright.

"Yeah," Tamaki responds, shifting so his chin is propped up. "Just thinking a lot."

"Oh?" Mirio bites into a baby carrot. "That's dangerous."

Nejire scoffs. "Maybe for you. Not everyone comes up with ridiculous, potentially life-threatening ideas when they think like you do," she cuts in, a lazy grin on her lips.

"I resent that. How was I supposed to know that hitting the hornet's nest would make all of them chase me?" he responds, leaning towards her. He points at her with his half-eaten baby carrot.

"It's common sense! If I hit you, wouldn't you want to chase me down?"

"Yeah, but I'd just ask why you did it in the first place, so I could understand. I wouldn't hit you back," he responds, tone hurt like she'd accused him of wanting to hurt her.

She smiles and shakes her head. "You're something else, Toogata."

"You told me to hit the hornet's nest!" he exclaims and throws his hands into the air. This draws the attention of a few students who'd stayed in the classroom with them.

"No. I said 'Don't his the hornet's nest, Toogata, you're going to get stung,' and you said 'I do what I want,' hit the hornet's nest, and got stung. Six times." Nejire crosses her arms.

A beat of silence. "Look, we're not here to talk about me," he mutters and drinks the rest of his juice box.

Tamaki zones out again, content to let them bicker with each other. He likes this. Minimum-stress hang-outs with his friends. No one expects him to talk if he doesn't want to or make new friends. There's no expectation to be impressive or entertaining. They lead the conversation with no expectations of him at all.

In the middle of his rant about the functionality of wasps and their lack of a contribution to the environment or society, Mirio spares and amused glance at Tamaki. It makes his heart flutter.

A year and some change in and simple glances still set butterflies free in Tamaki's chest. Yet, he hasn't told Mirio he loves him. How can he show Mirio he loves him?

He's still wondering when he's sitting on Mirio's couch, watching a soap opera with him. Mirio's dad went out for a few hours to do something, leaving them to their own devices. The couple in the soap opera start kissing. Then they start taking off each other's clothes. Then they're putting naughty things in naughty places.

Mirio, who hasn't been paying attention much at all, grabs the remote. "We get it! You're straight!" he groans while he changes the channel.

"Then why'd you start watching it in the first place?" Tamaki questioned, lips quirked.

"I thought it would be like one of the Spanish ones where the lady has a gun and does petty stuff in Spanish," he grumbles, clicking through channels.

"That was a Japanese soap opera, Mirio."

"Yeah, I realize my mistake NOW."

He settles on a channel showing an action movie. One of the ones where Tamaki has no idea what's going on but there are explosions and an increase in his blood pressure. The hero says something. The villain says something. The hero pulls out a gun. _Bang! Bang!_ The villain's dead. The hero kisses the girl. He says some clever one-liner. Something like _All in a day's work._ or _The perps were uncooperative_. End credits. They're all the same.

Mirio unbuttons the top few buttons of his shirt and shifts to get comfortable, arm stretched out on the back of the couch behind Tamaki. Their thighs are pressed together, from hip to knee. This is normal for them, a position that used to happen even before they started dating. Tamaki leans his head against Mirio's shoulder, his thoughts drawn back to the soap opera.

The on-screen couple had sex, albeit they didn't have to see the actual action. Neither had said anything about loving each other. In fact, few words were spoken at all. They didn't have to, Tamaki realized. They'd given each other their bodies. The ultimate show of love.

A proverbial lightbulb lights up over Tamaki's head. Sex! That's the answer! Tamaki'll show Mirio he loves him by fucking him. He can't say he really wants to, but he would lay his life down for Mirio. If he would give up his life to him without a second thought, giving up his body shouldn't be so hard.

Before he can chicken out, Tamaki turns and presses a kiss to the sliver of skin exposed by Mirio's unbuttoned uniform. Mirio looks down to Tamaki, mouth open to ask him a question. Tamaki catches it with his lips. There's a muffled grunt from Mirio, but he gets with the program quickly, his hand finding its way to Tamaki's jaw.

Ignoring the fear that makes his movements jerky, Tamaki parts his lips and slips his tongue between Mirio's when he does the same. A sound of surprise escapes Mirio, but Tamaki can't hear it over his own heartbeat. Mirio's other hand seeks out Tamaki's side to give it a soft squeeze.

Tamaki pulls away for a moment, but only to climb onto Mirio's lap and straddle him. "Tama-" the boy below him starts.

Tamaki kisses him again before he can question what's happening.

It's not like they haven't made out before; they've done it plenty of times. Usually, it's Mirio that tentatively leads, ready to stop if Tamaki seems even the least bit uncomfortable. Always thinking about Tamaki, Mirio is. The thought drives him on. Tamaki tips Mirio's head back to get a better position.

Mirio is always doing stuff for Tamaki, now he wants to return the favor. Teenage boys want sex, especially teenage boys in relationships. So, he'll give that to Mirio, because he loves him. God, he loves him so much.

Strong arms wrap around Tamaki's middle, pulling him flush against Mirio's chest. He pulls away for a shaky breath and then dives in again, this time to an open, waiting set of lips. Mirio's warm beneath him, every point of contact between them electric.

As he starts to lose himself to the kiss, he feels it. What they talk about in the stories. The warmth in his chest, then lower. It's a different warmth than what he feels when Mirio smiles at him. No, it's not warmth at all. It's heat. Red-hot, pooling low in Tamaki's stomach.

He shivers when Mirio's thumb brushes against the skin of his hip, just above the hem of his pants. He isn't sure when his shirt came untucked, but he can't focus on that for too long when Mirio pulls his hips closer. This isn't like the other make-out sessions they've had. Those were chaste, compared to this. There was space between them, then. Now, there's nothing but their clothing between them.

Mirio pulls back, giving Tamaki the chance to breathe, and presses open-mouthed kisses, hard enough to bruise, to his neck. The hot breath fanning over the soft skin sends chills up Tamaki's spine, the flutter in his stomach manifesting physically throughout his limbs. Mirio reacts in kind, a gentle shudder coursing through his own body.

Tamaki feels his boyfriend's arousal, straining against uniform pants, press against his thigh. The heat disappears. He tenses, a knee-jerk reaction. Oh, right. That's what he was working toward. It actually happened rather quick.

Fighting the urge to stop everything right there, he catches Mirio's mouth with his own again. Though, there's something reluctant about his boyfriend's movements. Tamaki grabs the half-undone tie from Mirio's neck and unravels it all the way to toss it to the side. He unbuttons more of the blond's shirt and pulls away to press kisses to his neck.

With a strained, hoarse voice, Mirio gets out, "Tamaki." It's not a breathy whisper, though, like how the guy on the soap opera spoke. Mirio's trying to talk to him. Tamaki ignores him, though, and moves down to his collarbone, swiping his tongue along the pressure point.

"Tamaki," Mirio says with a firmer tone. Hands grab Tamaki's upper arms and push him a few inches away. His gaze snaps up to Mirio's hooded eyes.

Mirio's never rejected him, before. It's always been Tamaki, guilty that he can't give his boyfriend more but pulling away, anyway. It's always been Mirio that kisses his cheek and tells him he can take his time. But Mirio's never pushed him away.

"What are you doing?" It's a gentle question, but it's still a punch to Tamaki's gut.

Anger sparks in his chest, for an instant, before it's replaced with annoyance. Annoyance because Mirio wouldn't just let him _do_ this for him. He wants this, Tamaki knows that. He can feel just how _much_ he wants this, pressing against Tamaki's inner thigh. "What do you _think_?"

The blond lets go of his arms, rubbing the length of his upper arms. "You're shaking."

Tamaki looks down. It's true. His knees, on either side of Mirio's thighs, are trembling. He doesn't say anything, the annoyance and anger draining out of him. With feather-light touch, Mirio turns Tamaki's eyes back to his own. When he sees the concerned, soft look in Mirio's eyes, his own burn with tears. How can so much warmth and affection be in one look?

"I just want… I want to show you how much I love you." Well. There it is. He ended up saying it anyway.

Mirio's eyebrows pull together. "What? You think having sex with me will show me how much you love me?"

Now he feels stupid. Tamaki doesn't respond, trying to look anywhere but Mirio's face. Again, he pulls his eyes back. When met with the silence, he keeps talking. "Tamaki, I know you love me."

Tamaki responds, "But how? I haven't even said anything." Other than what he just said.

Mirio's lips, which had been so soft against Tamaki's only moments before, widen into a smile. "Just by doing this. By trying. Fuck, I've known that for years," he answers, a laugh escaping him near the end of his statement.

"Known that… I love you? For years? How?" He's starting to feel like a broken record.

"Because... You let me in." Mirio pauses. "You trust me." Another pause. "You're not afraid to be you around me." He pauses again to give Tamaki the softest smile he's ever seen on the boy. "You don't need to fuck me to tell me what I already know."

"But, I mean-" Tamaki cuts himself off. "You want it. That's pretty obvious."

"Yeah, but not from you."

Tamaki gives him a Look™.

"Wait, shit. That's not what I meant. Yeah, from you, but not now. We'll get there, Tamaki. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but we'll get there. I can wait," Mirio reassured.

Tears blur Tamaki's vision. His arms tighten around Mirio's neck and he presses his forehead into his shoulder. "I'm sorry," he mumbles into his collarbone. "I'm sorry I'm not better. I wish I could be more for you."

"Don't apologize for being you." His voice is firm, like the very idea is a crime. "You've always been enough- more than enough. You're all I ever want.

Though the statement is meant to have the opposite effect, it just makes Tamaki cry more. His heart might burst. Mirio smooths circles against his back. "I don't deserve you." Tamaki's voice is a whisper.

"Oh, shush. I don't ever want to hear that from you ever again. Okay?"

Through tears, Tamaki chuckles and nods. Broad hands rub reassurances onto his spine and Mirio lets out a deep breath. "I have a hard-on while my boyfriend's crying on me. Unbelievable."

Tamaki can't help it. He dissolves into giggles, unable to stop himself.

"Yeah, yeah. Hack it up. It's _so_ funny."

Mirio turns and drops him unceremoniously onto another cushion. He stands, hunched over in an attempt to hide the bulge in his pants. Avoiding Tamaki's eyes, he says, "I'm going to go take a freezing cold shower real quick. Be right back."

While he turns and waddles comically away, Tamaki says, "I'm going to steal some of your clothes, okay? I can't stand this uniform."

From the bathroom, Mirio calls back, "God! Why don't you just take my soul, too, while you're at it? My pride? My clothes? You want my dad, too?"

Tamaki sifts through Mirio's clothes until he finds what he wants. "He's cute, but I don't really think he's my type." His only response is a sound of disgust over the running water.

He's still smiling, in his boyfriend's hoodie and shorts, when said boyfriend joins him on the couch, newly boner-free and coconut-scented. Mirio sinks low into the cushion and rests his head on Tamaki's shoulder. Muscular arms wrap around his middle. Tamaki finds one of his hands to hold. Using the other hand, he cards his fingers through Mirio's damp hair, wondering what he was ever worried about. Having sex wouldn't show him Tamaki loves him; that's just not him.

Anyway, Mirio's right. They'll get there in time. He shouldn't try to force it. After all, nothing else about their relationship is forced. Everything that's happened has been completely natural, like it's meant to be. He'd never dream of saying that to Mirio's face. Yet, Tamaki has a sneaking suspicion he already knows.

"If you were to eat a piece of human poop, what kind of power do you think you'd get?"

Tamaki groans.

Yeah, he'd die for this boy.


End file.
